


Blushes, Blushes, Burning Bright

by SkuldTheNorn



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Confusing Teenage Feelings, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Gen, Human Reproduction, Renew Anne with an E, Sex Education, Sex what is that, Sexual Content, Someone help Gilbert not have a heart attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkuldTheNorn/pseuds/SkuldTheNorn
Summary: Tomorrow, Anne will reunite with Gilbert. She will see him again, and she won't know what to say except for “So my friends want to know how human reproduction works. Would you be so kind as to tell me so that none of them accidentally falls pregnant while doing something wholly indecent?”Tomorrow will be a good day.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 245
Kudos: 1050





	1. In which Tillie has a Problem so now Anne does too

**Author's Note:**

> Please ignore the Blake reference, this is far from high literature.
> 
> Also: I am astounded that Anne hasn't managed to properly find out about this, at least not on screen. So now, she shall get to know about the Steps on the Cherished Path to Parenthood. Possibly in more ways than one.

Over the years, Anne has come to like Ruby. She really has. But sometimes...

“I mean it, Anne! Gilbert would know, you have to ask him!”

Anne closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Do you feel it would be appropriate to ask Moody that question?”

“What would be the point? Moody doesn't know about things like that and he doesn't want to. Plus, Gilbert is a medical student,” Ruby reasons.

“I will not ask Gilbert if Tillie might be pregnant because a boy touched her under her skirt!” Her face is burning, which means that it must now be a bright pink that clashes with her hair horribly. Oh, the joys of being a redhead.

Tillies eyes get as big as saucers. “You can't say my name! It has to be anonymous!”

“It won't happen at all, and that's that,” Anne says and gets up to retrieve the book she needs to consult for her coursework.

But it seems that that is not, indeed, that. Instead of agreeing with her, all the girls start talking at once, complaining and outraged. Difficult as this would be to deal with, it is aggravated by the fact that Diana is the loudest and most reasonable of the bunch.

“Don't you think we should know these things about our own bodies? It's not fair that we don't know. And even if someone does, it seems that everybody knows something different. Margaret thought you could only get pregnant if you were married and look where that got her!”

Clearly, Diana knows exactly what she is doing, appealing to Anne's sense of justice. Her dear bosom friend simply knows her too well. And it isn't like Anne doesn't agree. She herself desperately wants these answers, if only to understand how her body works. Definitely not for other reasons. She most certainly doesn't want what happened to poor Margaret to happen to one of her friends. Just... did it have to be _Gilbert?_

She hasn't seen him since that day he kissed her in front of the boarding house. They have exchanged letters frequently, but it just isn't the same. They are courting now, they've established. But they haven't really done any actual courting due to the fact that they have not been in the same city in months. Anne hasn't seen Gilbert in so long it hurts. It physically _hurts_ when she thinks about him, remembers kissing him, even remembers hugging him that one time.

 _I miss you most passionately,_ Gilbert wrote in his last letter. When she read it, Anne had been ecstatic – those were her feelings exactly! But now she realises that she doesn't know if they're the same. Letters can only say so much.

And now he's visiting. Tomorrow, she will see him again. And every single one of the girls wants her to ask him to explain human reproduction to him. Preferably within a minute of greeting him. When she doesn't even know how to greet him in the first place.

“But why do I have to ask Gilbert. It will be incredibly inappropriate. What if he thinks I'm asking because I want to...” Why does her face have to be so hot? Why does she have to be this terribly embarrassed? She is a grown woman, she should be able to talk about these things.

“And what would be so wrong about that?” Diana asks, much to her astonishment. “He's your beau! And he's Gilbert. He wouldn't scold you or do anything you don't want.”

Anne doesn't know what to say to that. It feels like her throat has closed up and the words can't get out anymore. Even when Diana puts her hand on Anne's and squeezes comfortingly, it doesn't help.

Tillie, it appears, hasn't noticed. “You're really lucky, Anne, you know? You have someone who knows the truth and will tell it to you. Neither of the Pauls seems to know what they're talking about, no matter how confident they act. And now I could be pregnant!”

Anne buries her face in her hands. “Seriously, you're still seeing both of them? Why?” Honestly, she doesn't understand why anyone would want to even be courted by either one of them, much less both. They are utter idiots. As is evident by the fact that seemingly, one of them thought it appropriate to touch her private parts without knowing what exactly the consequences are.

“They're both really nice! You just don't know them very well.” Tillie sounds more like she'd defending herself than the Pauls, which Anne thinks is fair. “He was very understanding when I said I didn't want to touch him back.”

The shrieking that ensues makes Anne feel like her eardrums might burst. Ruby especially seems outraged, the blush on her face making her seem sparkling and passionate rather than ugly.

“Touch him _where?”_

Diana rolls her eyes. “Where do you think, Ruby, honestly. It's not like it's new that boys want that.”

And it's true. They have for some time now been aware, from whispers and rumours, that that is a thing men want – and will try to convince them to do. Up until this point, it just hadn't happened to any of them. Which makes it seem very real all of a sudden.

“Moody would never want that!” Ruby exclaims, scandalised.

Anne almost grins, but holds herself back and instead just exchanges looks with the other girls. Moody is a nice boy. He is also a bit slow. Either of those things could be the reason why he hasn't yet asked, or maybe both. And then there is also the slim chance that Moody is aware that asking her would elicit this exact reaction. Which would make not asking her a very smart thing to do indeed.

“Moody is just a normal boy like all the others,” Tillie says. “Just because he doesn't ask for it doesn't mean he doesn't want it.”

Anne is about to agree when it catches up to her. _Like all the others._ Gilbert. Gilbert will want this too. With her. If he really does love her, he will probably want... touching. The very thought makes her run hot and cold. The excitement she feels is downright terrifying. She shouldn't feel this way, it was indecent.

Ruby gasps, outraged, and rushes to her feet. “If you talk like that, I won't listen!” With those words, she storms out of the room.

In the screaming quiet of her own head, Anne can't help but wish she could do the same. The only reason she doesn't also try to leave is that she already knows she will be hunted down. Neither Tillie nor Diana would give up on this. Which in theory was the right thing to do, but also very inconvenient to Anne.

“I really don't want to...” she complains. “What if he'll hate me?”

Diana laughs. “Anne, we're talking about Gilbert here. He could never hate you.”

And then, seemingly, it is determined. Tomorrow, Anne will reunite with Gilbert. She will see him again, and she won't know what to say except for “So my friends want to know how human reproduction works. Would you be so kind as to tell me so that none of them accidentally falls pregnant while doing something wholly indecent?”

Tomorrow will be a good day.


	2. In which the term „Lady in Waiting“ gets an annoying new meaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I‘ve decided to update this in bite-sized pieces so I don‘t overwhelm myself with the prospect of 5000 word chapters. Hopefully, you‘ll have fun reading this nonetheless.

Gilbert isn‘t coming. He‘s already five minutes late and Anne knows that means something is horribly wrong. 

Maybe the train had an accident and now he is stumbling around in a field somewhere, dangerously close to bleeding out. Maybe he‘s been mugged and is now laying in a ditch, dying. Maybe he‘s decided he didn‘t like Anne after all, that she is too brash and too plain and too ginger, and has just turned around to go back to Toronto. Maybe-

"Good God, Anne!" Diana complains. "Could you maybe stop thinking for a minute and just listen to me?"

Anne lets out a beleaguered sigh and unearths her face from her hands. "He‘s not coming. I‘m sure of it!"

"He so is! Anne, that boy loves you so much it‘s silly! Trains are late all the time, there‘s really no reason to get in a tizzy over a small thing like this."

“And even if he is, how do you know he‘ll still love me after this? I can‘t ask him these questions, it‘s horribly inappropriate!“ Her insides are trembling again - it‘s almost like she‘s back at the ruins that terrible night, hearing things that aren‘t meant and knowing all is lost.

Diana laughs. "They're medical questions, I think he‘ll be able to appreciate that. And you technically don‘t even have to say anything. I mean, we wrote them down, you could just give him the list."

"Yes!" Anne shoots to her feet. "That‘s what I‘ll do. I‘ll tell him to not read it until I‘m gone and then reply to the questions in writing. He can give me the answers tomorrow, and we don‘t have to ever talk about it. Nothing inappropriate there."

Diana smirks. "Really, Anne, there is no need to panic like this. Gilbert is a medical student and a gentleman and he loves you very much. I saw him kiss you. If that isn‘t desire, I don‘t know what is."

"Diana!" Anne doesn‘t know what to say. This is scandalous. Desire? Desire is so... adult. Are they adults? She doesn‘t think they are. They‘re just Anne and Gilbert, a girl and a boy. The _and_ in that sentence thrills her very much. It makes her skin prickle with excitement all over her body and her stomach squirm a funny dance.

"What?" Diana laughs. "It‘s true! That boy is totally gone on you. I bet if you let him, he‘d like to try some of the things on that list out on you. If they‘re safe, of course."

Anne's face is so hot it must be positively scarlet. She hadn‘t thought of this. How could she not have thought of this?

Desire. It‘s such a loaded word. It means things that Anne isn‘t even sure she knows very much about. She isn‘t prepared for this, it‘s all so new. Even Princess Cordelia, in all her adventures, had never been desired like this. Admired, sure. Loved, certainly. But desired? No. Cordelia had always been chaste and so had her princes and admirers.

But how could it have been different? Anne hadn‘t known better. Anne hadn‘t known anything else, except maybe the viciousness that was the Hammond‘s marriage. Anne still doesn‘t really know much else even know. She knows of gropes in dark corners and passionate kisses and going too far and having a baby. But she doesn‘t know what too far is.

If it felt like this, could it be good? All this excitement coursing through her veins, tickling her insides and setting her on fire. Anne feels like this must be either really really good or really really bad. She hopes, for her own sake, that it was horrid. Then there would be no temptation. 

"Earth to Anne!" Diana says and waves her hand in front of Anne‘s face. Then, she giggles. "Really, this would be terribly funny if I didn‘t feel for you. I‘m sorry. You and Gilbert will work these things out between yourselves." Her eyes flicker and focus on a spot behind Anne‘s right shoulder. "Speaking of..."

When Anne turns around, Gilbert is right there, agile eyebrows and splendid chin and all. He smiles at her and she melts just a bit.

This is all going to be okay. He‘s here and he‘s smiling at her and he‘s as handsome as ever. She had worried that in their time apart she might come to think about him differently, but looking at him now... she loves him. Oh, how she loves him. Passionately and with abandon. She desires him. 

_Is there something wrong when a woman‘s private parts get very tight when a man is near?_ she remembers one of the questions Ruby had written down. Everyone had been quite shocked at her avid participation in the project, but none of the girls had dared say anything. So now there were questions on their list like _Do humans have intercourse like animals with the woman being mounted from behind?_ Anne isn‘t quite sure how medical that one is. 

But now she is standing here, looking at Gilbert for the first time in months, and remembers that specific question because it suddenly _applies._ It makes her horribly anxious. Is this wrong? It can‘t be wrong if it feels right, can it? But then, that is what temptation is...

"Hi!" Gilbert says, and his voice is deliciously breathless. 

"Hello," Anne replies. 

None of them knows what to do after that, so they just stand there for a bit, staring at each other. Anne feels like she could fly. 

"Dear Lord, you two are hopeless!" Diana hisses, throwing her hands up in the air. "Alright, I‘m going to leave. You two go get reacquainted with each other. I‘ll be back in about two hours."

With that, she‘s out the door. Anne is utterly flabbergasted. Diana was supposed to be their chaperone, she can‘t just leave her alone! How can she just leave her alone with Gilbert? Isn‘t she supposed to protect her virtue or something?

"Are you okay?" Gilbert asks, sounding concerned now. "You look a little pale."

"I..." Anne pulls up short. She doesn‘t know how to answer that question without sounding like an utter lunatic. _I feel like I could sing out my joy like the nightingale on a warm Summer‘s night. Your eyes draw me into them like quicksand and I want to be lost. My life would be perfect if I could just cocoon myself in this moment._

"I‘m just really happy to see you."

"Me too," Gilbert says, his voice hoarse. 

And then, all of a sudden, he‘s striding towards her with purpose, and then she‘s in his arms, and she can‘t think of a single thing that exists in this world that could be better than this feeling. 

She loops her arms around him and holds him as close to her body as she possibly can, propriety gone out of the window in a puff of shameless smoke. He smells... He smells like home. Earthy and clear and like someone called Gilbert should smell. 

"I really missed you," he murmurs where he has his face buried in her hair, then turns and softly kisses her on her cheek. 

Anne can‘t help but gasp a little at the spark this makes shoot through her body - which makes Gilbert draw back. She curses herself for not being more in control of her reactions. 

"I‘m sorry. Was that not alright?" he asks. 

Quickly, she shakes her head to appease him. "No. It‘s very much alright. I liked it."

"Yeah?" His face is still so close to hers that she can feel his breath on her lips. It makes her burn exquisitely. "And would other things be alright as well?"

"Other things?" Anne tilts her head in question, slightly distracted by his husky voice. 

"Other things," he repeats, tracing his forefinger across her face until he arrives at her lips. "Like maybe kissing you somewhere else than just your cheek."

His expression is sheepish when he runs a hand through his hair. "I didn‘t exactly ask you last time, I was so caught up in the moment. Sorry for that."

"No!"

He gives her a startled look so she quickly explains herself before there are any more misunderstandings. 

"I loved last time. It was perfect. You don‘t need to apologize."

"Perfect, huh?" His lips form that smirk of his she‘d always hated so much. "So if I did it again..."

But Anne doesn‘t have any patience left to flirt. So she tightens the arms slung around his neck and draws him close until he can‘t get closer. 

He makes a small sound of surprise in the back of his throat and she can feel him smile against her mouth. And then... it‘s like he pounces. 

His lips are like a brand against hers, passionate and demanding. Desiring? Maybe. She doesn‘t know. All she knows is his hands on the small of her back, just like last time, drawing her closer to him. She‘s running hot and cold. It‘s dizzying. 

It is truly perfect. She couldn‘t have asked for a better reunion. He is Gilbert and he is here and he wants her. It makes her want to shout from the rooftops and dance in the streets. It makes her want to climb into him and never come out again. 

She gives as good as she gets, and it‘s almost as good as the way he kisses her. Because she is doing this. She is a woman in charge and she does what she wants, which is kissing Gilbert senseless. 

One of his hands has wandered to her neck where he tilts her head to change the angle and oh... it‘s even better this way. It‘s truer, somehow, more open. 

His lips wander from the corner of her mouth over her cheek to her ear and then to her neck, where he presses the softest of kisses. Anne gasps and twitches just a little bit. 

There is a soft "toc"-sound, but she doesn‘t pay it close attention because she‘s busy trying to keep standing on her suddenly wobbly legs. 

But she really should have, because then Gilbert steps away from her, he swoops down to pick up a piece of paper and when he‘s back upright again, his eyes are comically wide. 

"Is it medically unsafe to apply a tongue to someone's private parts?" he reads out, voice slightly shrill. 

U-oh. He‘s found the list. 


	3. In which questions are better not spoken aloud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who found the time to write!
> 
> This really is fuelled by all your lovely comments. I want you to know that I appreciate every single one of them, even if I don't reply. It just seems a bit lame to say "thank you" every time, I would like to come up with something better... For now, I will thank you by continuing to write.

_"Is it medically unsafe to apply a tongue to someone's private parts?" he reads out, voice slightly shrill._

_U-oh. He's found the list._

  
  


Anne doesn't know what to do but blush. She's opened her mouth, but for some reason, speech has entirely deserted her – so now she's standing there gaping like a fish on land. Which would be unprecedented, only Gilbert has a history of rendering speechless. Usually, though, the reasons aren't quite this salacious.

“Anne, what's this?” he asks. She carefully examines his face for any sort of hint at his thoughts, but except for a little smile and that very Gilbert crease between his eyebrows, it's blank. Purposefully so? Maybe.

Timidly, she shakes her head. “It's not what you think.”

Now, he does indeed smirk. “And what do I think?”

“I...” Her face is flaming hot and she feels entirely disoriented. “I don't... This wasn't my idea.”

Gilbert chuckles. “Not your idea? Are you telling me, Miss Anne Shirley Cuthbert, that the question _Is it wrong for a girl to initiate intimate contact?_ isn't actually yours? I would never have known.”

For a moment, Anne frowns. Maybe she should have looked over the list to make sure none of the questions was entirely too foolish. But then it catches up to her what he's said.

“Are you saying that I'm...” she can't find the right word. _Loose_ seems too dramatic, but _forward_ also isn't quite right. Because she _is_ forward, there is no denying it. Just not in this way. So far, she has been very proper, and she's proud of that.

Gilbert's eyebrows do that funny little dance where they shoot up and then sort of crumple in on themselves, leaving him looking adorably confused. “No! I didn't mean to imply anything bad. I just meant that you wouldn't think it was wrong for a girl to initiate anything if it wasn't for the boy. That's all.”

Suddenly, her stomach is lighter, like she's taken off a tightly laced corset. The relief makes her smile. “That's right.” The few breaths she takes after that help her collect herself to explain. “I have been commanded to convey to you, the medical student, a list of questions on the topic of... well, human reproduction.”

There is a certain awareness in her mind that this is by no means a complete explanation, but Gilbert seems satisfied for the moment. Or, well...

“But why me?” he asks. “And why so many questions. This list...” his cheeks redden considerably as he looks down upon it. “It's quite broad. Isn't there anyone else who could tell you?”

“That's not really the right question,” Anne blurts out before she can help herself.

This only makes Gilbert look more confused, so she squeezes her eyes shut and searches for the right words. “Those who definitely know would never tell us. When we asked Miss Stacy in school, she said something about marriage and the cherished path to parenthood. When I asked Marilla that one time, I was severely scolded for being wicked. If we asked the wrong person, we would get a reputation for being loose. And I don't see it ending well if we just trust the information someone volunteers. It appears that boys will tell you whatever they think will make you agree to what they want. Or they also just rely on rumours.”

She doesn't know what else to say and she can't look at him either. This is so frustrating. It makes her want to scream. This information should be available! How could people not tell them and expect everything to just turn out well? It doesn't matter with the boys because they can just leave of they get a girl pregnant, but the girl... The injustice of it makes her stomach roil.

“Right.” Gilbert clears his throat. “How about we sit down, maybe? I've had quite the journey.”

“Oh, of course!” Anne had already forgotten about that, how inconsiderate of her. But understandable, hopefully, given this disastrous situation.

As they move to the settee in the common room, she debates whether she should ask him to give her the list back. She doesn't really want him to read it and recognise her handwriting on it. She doesn't want to deal with whatever manner he will deliver the answers in, if he does. This is altogether too embarrassing.

When they're both sitting down, each with a cup of tea in their hands, Gilbert catches her eye again. “I'm so glad to be here, you know? It's so great to see you.”

Anne lights up inside. “It's really lovely to see you too! I really have pined for you, you know? Ever since I knew when exactly you would be here, being away from you was even more difficult. Anticipation can be a strange thing.”

He smiles and Anne suddenly remembers that the last times she'd seen him, excepting the moment in front of the boarding house of course, he had always looked sad. It hurts her to think that he had been agonizing over his feelings as she had, and that it could all have been so easily resolved if they had just talked to one another.

Which means, it suddenly becomes clear to her, that she has to talk to him now. This is awkward, but it mustn't come between them. She doesn't want him to conjure up things that aren't true. So she clears her throat and tries again.

“Girls are not told about these things. I realise that some of the questions on that list must be inappropriate, and you can skip them. But I would really be grateful if you could just explain the biology of it. In a medical way. Because we deserve to know. One girl has already gotten pregnant in the time I've been here. This shouldn't happen to us.”

His eyes widen. “Pregnant?”

Anne nods. “You are far away, so I don't think I'm at risk, but some of the other girls are courting. I don't... I don't want this to happen to them.”

The sip Gilbert takes from his cup seems very deliberate. “So what you want is a purely medical explanation for the purpose of... family planning.”

“I think it would be more accurate to say that they want it.”

“Right.”Gilbert closes his eyes. “Because you think you're not at risk.”

The tone of his voice worries her slightly, but she decides to see it through. “Yes. It would probably be best if you wrote it down, you know how I get when I have to recite something or tell a story. I won't even look at it if you don't want me to. This doesn't have to involve me at all, except as a messenger.”

He brightens up considerably when she says this. “Writing it down is probably the best thing to do. But...” and when he looks at her sideways, his cheeks are downright pink “you _should_ read it. You should know these things too, even if you don't... if you're not...”

“If I'm not what?”

But he shakes his head and smiles at her. “Forget about it. It's not important.”

Anne is about to protest, but then he takes her hand and she forgets all she was going to say. His touch is electric. She didn't know it could be like this, that it could be even more intense than it had been when they danced that one time in school. But now it is. Because she knows that he wants her back, that he loves her back, and it must be the best feeling in the whole entire world. It feels so big and free and bright. It feels like making the journey through the White Way of Delight for the first time, knowing that at the end of it, she will find a home.

“I really missed you,” she says. “We really must catch up now that you are here, I have so longed for your touch. Really, it has been difficult. I only got a few kisses with you, glorious though they were, and then I was immediately deprived of you. It's made me feel quite sorry for myself from time to time.”

“Glorious.” It isn't a question. There is something about Gilbert, in his gaze, in the timbre of his voice, that makes her shiver. His eyes are so very dark. “Well, then...”

And then he is kissing her again, completely without preamble. It shoots through her like a lightning bolt, sudden and vivid, splitting her through the middle and fusing her together again. Almost like he _remakes_ her.

His hands are cradling her jaw, his lips devouring her, and he is making her a new person. No longer is she Anne Shirley, the comely orphan no one wanted, stick thin and red-headed and dirty and too loud. Now, she is Anne Shirley Cuthbert, fiery-haired university student and future teacher, smart and passionate and _desired._ Desired by Gilbert Blythe, who is kind and open and intelligent, and who will be a doctor.

It takes a while for Anne to realise that their kisses have changed. She has been so caught up in feeling that she hasn't noticed them deepening, hasn't noticed herself clinging to him more closely. Now she notices, though. She notices Gilbert shifting closer, one of his hands falling from her face to grip her waist, drawing her towards him. His breath is fanning over her face, warming her cheeks, heavy and heady.

She is completely unprepared for it when he lightly lets his tongue flicker across her bottom lip, which is why she lets out an undignified squeak and clutches his shoulders tighter. It makes her throb at her core, makes her thigh press together to somehow contain the feeling. It is brilliant. But when she goes to try to replicate it, Gilbert draws back.

“I'm sorry, I... that went too far.” _Utterly dishevelled_ would be a kind way to describe the way he looks. His pupils are blown so wide that his eyes look completely black, there is a blush spreading from his cheeks over the bridge of his nose and his mouth... Oh, his mouth. It looks swollen with her kisses, flushed a deep, delectable red. Anne wants nothing more than bite at the lower lip he is currently worrying between his own teeth.

But there are more important things to do. Like asking: “Why?”

“What do you mean?” His breath is heavy. Added to his confusion, it makes him seem quite frazzled. Almost like his thoughts are also still occupied with what they were doing just moments ago.

“Why did it go too far? Is something wrong?”

“Well, I... it didn't? I was taking liberties, I thought.”

“Ah.” She feels her face flush again, but this time, she isn't embarrassed. Well, then. “I happen to find all the rules and expectations society places on us to be rather dull. I mean, I don't... there are boundaries. But I like when you kiss me. I _want_ you to kiss me. If that changes, I will tell you.”

Gilbert swallows audibly, but the expression on his face changes from contrite to relieved in under a second. “I thought you were telling me. That sound you made...”

Anne isn't quite sure whether saying “it was because I liked it” would be truthful, because there was a great deal of surprise involved. So she settles for “I will push you away. I will say something is wrong. If there is a slate nearby, I might smash you about the head with it. I promise. You will _know._ I will be clear.”

His eyes flicker down to his chest where she punctuates her words by poking him with a finger and then back up again. “Alright, thank you. I am glad. But I really shouldn't... I should hold myself back a bit. And anyways, I'm sure Diana will be back soon. Maybe I should start answering those questions so we have it out of the way.”

Anne doesn't mention that of the “about two hours” Diana wanted to stay away, about one is still left, as much as it tempts her. Because she knows he is right. It would be better to have this resolved by tomorrow, then they can enjoy the last three days of his stay more fully. Especially since Diana has agreed to chaperone them for all of it – which means that they will probably be alone with each other quite a bit.

Instead, she closes the gap between them to give him another kiss, very proper in comparison to earlier. Then, she goes to fetch them more tea. And if she watches him blush and hesitate over his educational essay for the rest of the hour, well, who is to know.


	4. In which everyone is nervous and no one is pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring you: A single line of dialogue. Truly, I have outdone myself.
> 
> I should probably also mention that this is not betaed. Everytime I read this back, I find more embarrassing mistakes and have to go back to correct them. But we shall venture forth anyways, because otherwise, nothing will get done.

Gilbert only gives her a peck on the cheek when he leaves, and Anne should be disappointed. Deep down, she knows that. Much closer to the surface, though, is her burning curiosity to find out what he's written in answer to their questions. It is almost torture to wait to read it until they can convene in her and Diana's room after dinner – but Anne knows that if she reads it before the others, she will be made to explain everything. And she doesn't want to explain.

It takes a long time until the girls have all quieted down. They have decided that they will each take their turn to read what Gilbert has written silently and then discuss it afterwards if they feel they need to.

Diana goes first. Anne is grateful for it. Mostly because she didn't want to have to go first – not in front of all the others. But also because she feels that if Ruby was to go first, they would never be able to finish this. Completely by coincidence, it has been decided that Ruby will read last.

Anne stops being grateful after the first few moments. Diana's eyes are huge and glossy by the light of the candle they have lit. There is electric lighting in the house, of course, it being a city house, but they felt that this should be treated like one of their womanly rituals and therefore done by candlelight, to hell with convenience. And now Diana is sitting across from Anne, illuminated by golden light, eyes fixed on the pages with rapt attention.

There are three of them. Three pages covered front to back in Gilbert's nearly illegible scrawl. He is practising to develop a proper doctor's handwriting, he says. But Anne knows he's always written this way.

Three pages are a lot. It makes her heart beat a bit faster because this means that Gilbert has really taken this seriously and genuinely wants to help, inspite of how embarrassing it might have been for him. And it probably was embarrassing, Anne knows, if only because she herself is involved. All of this would have been much easier to handle between strangers, with a certain air of anonymity. It's not that Anne thinks Gilbert won't do his best to be professional – but it must be easier to have these conversations if you don't know one another. Even if they are just in writing. It had been much easier to tell him her feelings in writing too.

The expression on Diana's face is curious, if only because there really isn't an expression. Her eyebrows are raised slightly and Anne can see she's teething her lower lip, but she doesn't appear to be very anxious or embarrassed or excited. It's incredibly frustrating. Anne wishes, not for the first time, that Diana hadn't grown up to be more contained with her feelings.

From when Tillie receives the pages until Anne suddenly wishes Diana's remote, expressionless face back, it is less than five seconds. Because Tillie's face turns completely scarlet, and her eyes are huge, and she giggles. She _giggles._ In fact, she has to stop reading several times because she is giggling so hard. 

Anne vibrates with impatience, but she is also experiencing a sudden sense of dread. What if she won't like what Gilbert has written. What if her friends won't like what Gilbert has written? What if it's completely mortifying? It very well could be. She knows this because she now has actually read the list of questions that had so conveniently fallen at Gilbert's feet.

She doesn't quite know what questions had scandalised her the most. Ruby's weirdly innocent, but blunt ones or Diana's. Because Diana... Diana had written things like  _Can virginity be medically determined?, How can one circumvent losing their virginity while still being as intimate as possible?, Can intercourse be pleasurable for women, and if so, how?_ And  _How can pregnancy most effectively be prevented?_

The questions are very matter-of-fact, and Anne is grateful for that. Yet, she can't help but think what they imply... that Diana may have gone much further than she had ever told Anne. And that she had not trusted her best bosom friend enough to tell her about it. Or that she knew more about the subject that she had admitted, for whatever reason. Neither thought was entirely pleasant.

When Tillie is finished, she wipes the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes and hands Anne the papers with a look in her eyes that the other girl can't quite decipher. It's deliberating, somehow, as if Tillie is connecting all her newly acquired knowledge to Gilbert and wondering what exactly Anne has to do with it.

Anne's face is burning as soon as she reaches the end of the first paragraph, where Gilbert is explaining male and female genitalia. By the time he has gotten to the point where he is describing how these genitalia might possibly interact and what the consequences could be, it's like there is a vice around her stomach, painfully constricting.

The words _penis, vagina, semen, fertilisation_ and _orgasm_ all sound very scientific. But that doesn't make them feel any less forbidden. Somehow, Anne feels like she is doing something wrong, like she shouldn't be reading this. Especially since it was Gilbert who wrote it. And then suddenly, she gets angry, because Gilbert had to write it in the first place. They shouldn't have been put in this situation. They should have been taught in school or at home or both, so that they could go out into the world prepared and didn't have to feel ashamed because they didn't know a woman's time ( _menstruation,_ it is called, apparently) is somehow connected to a bigger cycle that is then connected to the possibility of children.

In hindsight, Anne realises that her time has come in regular intervals ever since the first few times. But she hadn't realised at the time – and no one had told her it would happen, not even Marilla. Oh, how much worry she could have saved herself just by knowing! And there certainly was a skirt that wouldn't have been ruined if she had.

Then, there are descriptions of actions, of touching and tongues and hands and other things that make Anne burn for an entirely different reason. She can't help imagining. She can't help imagining that Gilbert might want those things because he knows about them – and she can't help asking herself if she does too, now that she knows as well. An answer, sadly, is not quickly forthcoming. She is simply too overwhelmed at the moment, head buzzing with not yet assimilated information.

Upon having finished reading, she finds herself reluctant to hand the papers on to Ruby. Not only because she knows that Ruby might think Gilbert terribly wicked as soon as she reads his words – and might tell on him, on all of them. If she wrote a letter home, complaining about all the horrible things she had learned from that terribly Gilbert Blythe, they might never be able to step foot back into Avonlea ever again. No, she is also worried that Ruby, in a moment of upset, might tear the papers up or light them on fire with the candle. She is afraid that all this valuable knowledge, only so recently acquired, might be lost to them again.

But Ruby stays calm all throughout the minutes she reads the text. Sure, her eyebrows are drawn together, she is blushing prettily and gnawing at her lips, but she doesn't move and she doesn't say anything either. There isn't even a giggle. Their friend appears highly concentrated.

They all hold their breath when Ruby lowers the pages, trying to anticipate her reaction and come up with a way to diffuse whatever feelings of upset she might harbour. But it's not necessary. Because Ruby is smiling.

“Well, Tillie, at least now we know you're not pregnant.”


	5. In which Anne and her friends are being protected from protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for continuing to read and comment! Seeing all your lovely feedback really lightens my mood and motivates me to continue to write.

_The most effective means of family planning known to date is the use of condoms, which are rubber sheaths slipped over the erect penis to catch the semen. It has been illegal to produce, sell or even really talk about condoms for over twenty years now. Which is why I am telling you now that I, of course, absolutely do not condone their use under any circumstances. Please stay as far away from them as you can. Especially if a man claims that any material will be as effective as rubber. Because it won't be._

They had been debating about that passage almost the whole evening. Sure, the talk about oral sex and hands up skirts and erogenous zones had been quite fun, especially when Ruby had asked “If a boy can make a girl have an orgasm like that, do you think a girl can do it herself?” to which Tillie had promptly replied “Well, I'll certainly find out.” And it really had been enlightening to find out how babies were made, everything makes so much more sense now.

But this... A relatively safe and effective means of family planning exists – and it has been made illegal for no sensible reason whatsoever. Women are dying by the hundreds in childbirth each year, have more children than they could hope to properly take care of or just feed, even. And still, condoms are illegal because some old coot thinks they could “degrade the morals of young women” or some such nonsense. No word lost about young men, of course, but judging by the actions of their male acquaintances from university, she knows why. They are already “lost”. But just why it seems to be alright for them to be lost and not for women, Anne doesn't know.

… Anne does know. The reason is sexism. She just doesn't want to think about it right now.

Because Gilbert had had to break the law just to tell them that condoms existed, even if they would never gain access to them. Never mind stupid hang-ups about morality, what about freedom of speech? Because apparently, Gilbert is not free to speak on this topic. And neither are they. Not at all. It is an outrage.

Anne yawns and then closes her eyes to bask in the sunlight just a little, to see those fascinating orange shapes shift beneath her eyelids. She hadn't gotten much sleep this night. None of them had. They had been up talking in the room that Anne and Diana share, talking animatedly into the middle hours of the morning.

There had been discussions on boundaries and comfort and risks and joys. Diana had blushed and said that actually, she very much wanted to do all those things, preferably soon, and then stared every single one of her friends right in the eyes as if to challenge them to scold her. None of them had dared. None of them had wanted to, actually. They were all very much in awe of her bravery. Anne certainly was.

“Is there a boy?” she had asked.

Diana had shaken her head. “No. But it doesn't need to be with a boy, does it? Most of the touching doesn't require one. And then there's no risk.”

It had very much reminded Anne of Cole, only when she asked Diana if she never wanted to do it with a boy, her friend replied: “Oh, don't be silly, of course I do. It just seems like doing it with a girl would be much more practical.”

None of them had known what to say to that, so none of them had said anything. Tillie had giggled, though.

  
  


Anne must have fallen asleep, because when she opens her eyes again it is to the sight of Gilbert Blythe standing over her, looking highly amused indeed. Smug bastard.

“Didn't get enough sleep tonight, did you?” he asks.

Only when Anne has finished saying “Of course I didn't. There was so much to discuss, none of us got much sleep at all!” it occurs to her that he might have been joking.

From the look on his face, it appears that he was. Anne sighs at his wide eyes and frown and rolls onto her side to better get up in her corset.

“I'm sorry,” she apologises. “You know how I get when I don't sleep enough.”

He smiles and reaches out with his hand to help her stand, a gesture which Anne gladly accepts. Not because she needs the help, of course, but because she likes holding his hand. Which is why she holds onto it when she is standing upright – not that Gilbert makes any move to let go of it. Good boy.

“It's alright. I mean, I did ask. Serves me right.” The laugh he gives us rueful but amused, and it sounds like it would drag the sun out from behind of the clouds if it weren't already shining. Anne loves his laugh. She wants to hear it more, every day for the rest of her life – and beyond, if that is in any way possible.

“Well, still,” she says. And then: “Thank you. We didn't realise that you might actually get in trouble for answering those questions, beyond maybe a light scolding. But you did it anyways and were very diligent about it. So I want you to know that we are really grateful.”

“You shouldn't have to be grateful.” He sounds gruff and when Anne chances a look at his face, the expression on it is tense. “That sort of information shouldn't be withheld from anyone, it can spare people so much trouble. It's not like not knowing stops people from doing things.”

Anne nods, remembering Margaret and how her belly had started throwing up and looked more panicked every day until she confessed and was promptly thrown out. Margaret had not known. And something had still happened and now she is in trouble. Anne doesn't even know anything about what happened to her after that. It can only be a few more weeks until the baby is born. A fully formed human, born to a girl only two months older than Anne. No, to a woman. A woman like Anne is a woman. It is miraculous, and it is terrifying. Anne isn't quite sure which feeling wins out.

Suddenly, she feels an overwhelming wave of gratitude for Gilbert, for this kind and fair and generous boy who, for some strange reason, seems to have fallen for her and who has stayed true to her through all those months apart. When the emotion seizes her, she can't help but seize Gilbert in turn, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt and kissing him firmly.

“Thank you,” she says again, “for being who you are. I love you so very much.”

Even in the sunlight, Gilbert's eyes look strangely dark all of a sudden. But maybe that's just the seriousness, because he leans his forehead against hers, breathes her in for a moment and says “And I love you right back, Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Equally much. Fair and square.”

Anne wants to laugh, she wants to tease him back and make him say it again and again. But before her mind can process the situation enough for her body to do anything, Gilbert has wrapped one arm around his waist, is gripping her jaw with his other hand, and kisses the life out of her.

It is deep and intense right from the start. Anne has never really understood it when heroines in novels described the kisses they received as _plundering,_ but she thinks she does now. Gilbert's lips on hers are relentless, gripping, like they're trying to extract something from her that she doesn't even know she has. It makes her quiver inside, makes her whole body tingle. It only makes her want more, even though it already is so much.

When Anne rises onto her tiptoes and clutches him by the neck to kiss him back just as passionately, Gilbert makes a noise almost like a groan of pain. But she knows he isn't in pain because he is here with her and she isn't doing anything to hurt him. Which makes a realisation burn through her like wildfire: He is enjoying this. He really is. And he is showing her.

It makes her whimper into his mouth in return, which only seems to spur him on. His arm is drawing her closer to his body, clutching them as close as they can be with all the layers of clothes still separating them. For a Minute, Anne is confused as to why he is pressing closer still, when that can't possibly be done, until she realises that, oh, this is like dancing.

He is guiding her and so she follows. She follows his guidance until her back hits the trunk of the tree she had been laying under just shortly ago. And then he presses closer to her still, blankets her with his body.

It is a warm day, which means that Anne is wearing a thin dress and only one petticoat. That is why a feeling on her thigh makes her think of a new word she learned just yesterday evening.

_Erection._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rubber condoms were first produced in 1855. In 1892, the production, sale and advertisement of birthcontrol (including condoms) was made illegal in Canada. In 1936, a Canadian woman named Dorothea Palmer was charged with dissemination of information about family planning. She was a hero who should be remembered and was thankfully acquitted. This has been a public service announcement.
> 
> (No, I totally did not just learn this two hours ago. Shut up.)


	6. In which Anne turns liquid and almost evaporates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I would like to have it known that the word "fic" sounds exactly like the German word "Fick", which in English means "fuck" (noun). And that the fourteen year-old girl in me thinks that this is absolutely hilarious.

It makes a frisson of both excitement and fear shoot through her. 

Gilbert has an erection. Gilbert is here with her, kissing her, holding her close, and he has an erection. 

Is it because of her? Anne doesn’t really know what to hope for. If it’s not because of her, is just an involuntary reaction to stimulus, she thinks that will feel like a rejection. But if it is because of her... how should she deal with that? How does she even want to deal with it? Does she even want to deal with it at all?

Gilbert’s essay had said that erections meant that the body was preparing itself for intercourse. Anne knew she didn’t want to have intercourse - she didn’t want to fall pregnant. Therefore, conveniently, she didn’t have to deliberate any further on whether intercourse was something she wanted to do or not. The possible consequences spared her that. 

But other things... The essay had mentioned other things that could be done with penises and vaginas and hands and mouths, pleasurable things. Does Anne want to do those? 

Not finding an answer quickly enough, Anne decides she will simply stop asking herself and instead enjoy Gilbert’s kisses. It isn’t like she _has to_ pay attention to... it. 

Instead, she frames his face with her hands and opens her lips a bit, deepening the kiss. This definitely feels good. It feels incredible. She especially likes his hands on her waist, how possessively they grip her and hold her close to him. It makes her feel all tingly inside, in her stomach and between her legs. 

It also makes her want to not wear a corset. If it feels this incredible to feel his hands on her through several sturdy layers of cloth, how might it feel to feel his hands on her, period? To feel his fingers dig into her flesh? The thought alone makes her shiver and kiss him harder, clutch at him more desperately, push herself against him. Inevitably, it makes her press closer against him _there._ And he groans. He groans like he is in pain but he isn't.

It makes her turn liquid. She is nothing but water, enveloping, caressing his skin, ever-moving and ever-changing. Her fingers tangle in his hair and tug, dragging him back eventhough she wants him closer. Contrary. But he doesn't move backwards, he only takes one of his hands off her to wrap his arm around her waist, dipping her back a bit.

It makes her core connect with his thigh.

And suddenly, what he had written about things amplifying, about lust and desire, it all makes sense.

She's _burning._ And she's only very vaguely aware that she's made a noise, punched out of her, until Gilbert draws back, holding her at arm's length.

"Are you okay?" he asks. Anne has a very hard time understanding that he's even saying anything, she's that distracted.

Still, she manages to say yes. Only Gilbert doesn't seem to believe her. He looks frazzled and his pupils are blown like nobody's business, but he's frowning. He looks confused. Concerned.

"Are you sure?"

Anne nods her head. "Yes, I'm brilliant."

When Gilbert's eyebrows do their dance anyways, Anne realizes she's still not being believed. And that poses her with a conundrum. Because what is she supposed to say? What is she supposed to do? All she really wants to do is go back to feeling the way she just did. She wants to go back feeling that incredible.

Gilbert bites his lip, looking nervous. "I didn't hurt you?"

It is then that Anne decides that honesty is the best policy - partially because she couldn't lie or evade right not anyways. "No. Quite the opposite."

The few seconds it takes him to parse this, her heart is racing so fast she thinks it might beat out of her chest. And then...

Then his eyes widen as much as they possibly can. She sees the jolt of realisation go through him and it sends a jolt through her in turn. "You... I..."

His mouth is open and he is breathing hard and he isn't doing anything, really, so Anne just gets impatient and kisses him again. She doesn't bother with niceties and propriety, she just goes for it right away, mouth opening, lips sliding over his, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. What it gets her is an explosion of Gilbert against her. Again, he loops his arm around her waist and he kisses her so hard she could almost describe it as savage. It makes her whimper, a bit in surprise and a bit in pleasure. But what it does not do is make her feel what she did before.

She knows why it doesn't. She knows what made her feel good the first time is his thigh at the apex of her thigh, the friction he so deliciously accidentally provided her with. And she wants it back, but asking for it feels like too much. Now, if she only could figure out what to do so Gilbert would do it again. So she thinks about the fact that he was probably in a similar condition. And that she could do something about that. And that Gilbert isa nice boy who won't tell and who won't judge and who won't force anything.

So she does the stealthiest thing she can think of: She moves her right thigh forward to meet him where he seems to already be straining towards her.

Gilbert moans into her mouth wantonly and it's all she can do not to burst. She hadn't though of this. She hadn't thought what effect it might have on her that she had this effect on him. But it does. It does have an effect. It makes her tremble - but not with fear. With excitement. And it makes her feel almost like he had against her, it fans that same delicious flame as his touch had.

Gilbert moans into her mouth and his hips twitch against her and she can _feel_ just how affected he is. And then he moves his mouth to her neck, kissing her beneath her ear and almost overshadows her resulting gasp with his groan.

"Anne." His voice is hoarse and soft and she loves it. "Anne-girl, what are you doing?"

She lets out a breathless laugh. "It seems to me like you might have a clue."

The way he burrows his face in her neck and squeezes her tight, shaking, scares her a bit. Until he breathes out against her, hot and moist in the warm summer air, and steps just a tiny bit closer, like he's taking her up on an invitation. Steps right against her again, solid and warm, and asks: "Are you sure?"

Anne doesn't know what to say. Anne doesn't know how to say anything, she just knows how to melt against him, spread her legs just a little bit wider to accommodate him better, and sigh. She palms the back of his neck, not knowing just how to get him to kiss her again, how to move, how to proceed.

This is... new. Anne isn't good at doing new things when she can't adequately prepare herself. Sure, Gilbert had tried to explain, but he hadn't... He hadn't written about _this._ He hadn't written about this feeling, like she was broken open with elecrticity soaring through her. About this closeness and the way they just _were,_ almost nothing separating them anymore. They were so close that there was barely anything they could do to get closer. And he hadn't written about the tenderness, this jittery feeling around her heart, for this boy who isso close to her and who everyone has told her will be bold and brash and _bad_ , but who isn't. Because he isn't just another man, just another boy. He's _Gilbert._ And he's _hers._

Then he moves against her and it's all she can do to hold on, clutch his head against her neck where he's mouthing at the tender skin and just _feel._ He's tentative, and it makes her heart melt. Because it makes her feel like he also doesn't know. He doesn't know what to do just as much as she doesn't. They're in this together.

The way he whispers her name against her neck feels like an oath. She returns it, mouthing it breathily, tilting her head back further so he can continue his ministrations on her neck. It's almost silent, just a quiet gust of air. The sound she makes when she feels his teeth gently scraping against her skin, however, is not quiet. It's startlingly loud in the small courtyard they're in.

It makes Gilbert's hips twitch against her harder and that... that almost makes her want to scream. It makes her want to sing out in wonder at how good it feels, makes her want to tell him. It also makes her realise in just how public a place they're doing this. That she _cannot_ make the sounds she wants to. That she should probably go to her room. It's not like Diana will be home until in about three hours anyways.

"Gilbert," she gasps, but can't finish her sentence the first time because she just feels so incredibly good.

Gilbert seems to feel similarly because he just doesn't react. Or maybe she does, but the puff of air he lets out against her neck isn't really a good indication one way or the other.

"Gilbert, we should really go to my room," she manages to get out.

But she doesn't get any of the reactions she expected. Because her words make Gilbert clutch her even closer to himself, groaning against her throat louder than before, almost wounded, and shaking. It confuses her, incredibly so. What is he doing? Has she done something? Shouldn't she have said this, did she make him sad? Carefully, she caresses the back of his head, as if to calm him. She doesn't know what else do do. She doesn't know what to ask. But this is Gilbert. The one thing she knows for sure is that he will tell her, whatever it was. And really, can it be that bad?

Which is why it surprises her when he draws back, eyes wide, horrified, and says: "I'm so sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, poor Gilbert. I had way too much fun doing this to him :D


	7. In which a conversation is stumbled through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting this now because I have been getting impatient comments and want to assure you guys that I have not, in fact, abandoned this fic. I feel weirdly strongly about it and all your lovely comments truly have been balm for my soul. I'm overwhelmed with the feedback I've gotten. Truly, thank you!
> 
> If it helps you understand, here's the situation: The last two months, I had to write my bachelor's thesis as I worked a full-time job. I handed it in last Saturday. The monday after that, we were informed that we would be working from home. Friday, we were informed that it would be two weeks until they had to consider laying people off. I'm one of the newest hires. I will be among the first to lose my job. 
> 
> I'm currently having trouble to even get out of bed in the mornings. I know a lot of people feel just like me. I know a lot of people have it worse. I know a lot of you are probably bored out of your minds and scared at the same time and would really like to take your mind off things. So this is me trying to help with that. And I will try to keep updates consistent - weekly, if possible. But if I don't manage to do that, it's not because I don't want to continue the story. I very much want to - your feedback is so motivating.
> 
> Please stay safe! Stay inside if you can (and manage to stay sane while doing it). Wash your hands. Follow your country's health authority's recommendations. We're in this together and we'll get through it.
> 
> Alright, on with the story!

Gilbert still hasn't stopped pacing and Anne is now getting increasingly concerned. Something is wrong, she knows. At least Gilbert thinks something is wrong.

They have retired to her room, as she had proposed. Gilbert had excused himself for a little while, and she had worried on her own for a bit and hoped it would be better once Gilbert returned. But now Gilbert is back and it is not better. Maybe it's even worse.

Because something is wrong and Gilbert won't tell her what it is. Which, at least, must mean that it's not something she did. Probably. Gilbert would probably tell her.

“Would you please just tell me what is wrong?” she pleads. “This is scaring me.”

With a frustrated noise, Gilbert plunks down onto Diana's bed. “Nothing's wrong. I'm just embarrassed.”

The colour on his cheeks is vibrant. She can almost feel how hot they would be under her hands.

“But why?” She just can't understand why he is acting this way. This is different from what she now knows was embarrassment around her when they were still in school. He had never seemed this angry with himself.

He looks her straight in the eyes for some time and then takes a breath to steel himself. “Because I orgasmed.” Immediately, the blush spreads from his cheeks to cover his whole face. Anne is too focused on that to notice what he said at first. “And it was inappropriate and in public and I am so sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

All of a sudden, it seems like he can't look at her anymore. “I'm so sorry. I understand if you want me to leave, it was horrible of me.”

Anne wants to tell him no, she doesn't want him to leave, but body is not cooperating with her brain. Gilbert orgasmed. The thrill from before, outside under the tree, all of a sudden is back in full force. Gilbert orgasmed. Because of her. Because...

“Why?”

Gilbert's blank face makes it blatantly clear that he does not understand her incredibly verbose question. And really, she should be proud of herself. She's finally discovered how to stop this running mouth of hers. She just needs to think about Gilbert orgasming.

Or maybe she shouldn't. It really is terribly distracting. And it makes her feel all hot and squirmy, which is the furthest thing from being conductive to a productive conversation.

“Why did you... What did I do?”

Because _she_ did this, she is sure of that now. Gilbert had said in his essay that orgasming was not a choice, it simply happened when the right circumstances were met. Which meant that he hadn't been acting. He had been _reacting_. To _Anne._

It seems that Diana was actually right. He does desire her.

Gilbert crosses his legs. “Well, I just... You're you. I...” She can hear his throat click as he swallows. “I want you. Very much. And we were... We were very close. So when you said we should go to your room, I just...”

He raises his hands as if in defence. And Anne... Anne is just hot and cold all over. This – yes. She desires him. And she wants him to desire her. In exactly the way he apparently does. In exactly the way he shouldn't, because people have told her all her life that these sorts of things should only occur within a marriage. But oh, how she wants him to want her.

She presses her thighs together and rubs her hands across them until she realises that he is still waiting for her to react. Anne knows she shouldn't. She really shouldn't. This could get her into so much trouble. But she trusts him.

“That seems like a compliment to me.” Her voice is husky somehow, deep and not like it usually sounds. Her corset suddenly feels incredibly restrictive. Usually, it just sort of sits there against her body, not doing much but providing whatever decency was. But she was breathing so deeply now that it was bothering her. It pressed into her sides, making her even more aware of her body.

Because she can't take her eyes off of him, she sees his eyes widen, his pupils dilating, his hands clenching. She sees him reacting to her, and she hasn't even done anything. It makes her feel incredibly powerful.

“Oh,” he says, an echo of her earlier reaction.

She realises the irony of the situation. They are sitting on beds opposite each other, have just admitted that they both very much want each other. But neither of them is doing anything. Because still, neither of them is brave enough. Or knows where to start.

How is this for married couples right after the wedding? Are they told how this is supposed to go? Are they instructed on how to act? Do they suddenly have the courage because they have the blessing of the church and society at their backs?

With a heavily beating heart, she shuffles to the left a bit and pats on her bed, asking him to sit down next to her.

He nods rapidly before he seems to realise that he actually needs to move to do what she asks of him.

The bed tipping beneath her sends a thrill through her and it just... doesn't stop. Even just reaching out to put her hand over his on the bedspread just makes her burn. When he turns his hand over to thread his fingers through hers, she has to close her eyes so it does not overwhelm her.

Gilbert doesn't move to touch her beyond that and she is grateful for it.

“So you don't think I'm bad for how I act?” he asks, somewhat timidly.

“No,” she rasps out. She really does not. She thinks he is incredible, and that the way he treats her is absolutely darling. Being wanted like this is one of the best feelings she has ever experienced, right on par with the first time she really realised that Matthew and Marilla loved her and would want her to stay.

He squeezes her hand so minutely that it makes her feel like he might be doing it on reflex. “And you... are alright with me... doing these things? Feeling like this?”

“I feel like that too.”

They are still not looking at each other, but Anne is pretty sure she knows what expression is on his face based on how he shifts in his seat. His eyes must be incredibly wide and bright.

“But not like...” he cuts himself off, sounding extremely nervous. “You didn't...”

“No,” she says, deciding to save them the embarrassment. “But I really liked it. I love it when you touch me and are close to me. It feels heavenly.”

Gilbert lets out an audible breath. “It feels heavenly to me too.”

That makes Anne laugh, and suddenly, it isn't difficult anymore. She can look in his face and suppress her giggling just long enough to say “well, it must have, if it put you in such a state” and then she is wheezing again.

He only looks taken aback for a second or so before he is laughing right along with her. When he takes her in his arms so she can smother her laugh against his vibrating chest, she knows this is alright. She wants this and she will have it.

If only Gilbert could stay longer than for just the next three days.


	8. In which thoughts are had and new feelings are experienced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive and I've learned my lesson. Never shall I ever name a date or time frame for an update, it just doesn't work for me :D
> 
> Thank you all for your support and kind comments! I appreciate every single one of them - they have kept me motivated and encouraged me immensely. Have a cyber hug if you want one!

They are sitting in a café and Anne... Anne just wants to be anywhere but here. Not because she doesn't like the cake – it's delicious. Not because she feels unsafe or even uncomfortable – it's very cozy and Gilbert is, of course, the perfect gentleman.

But they're not alone, the way Anne desperately wants to be. She wants to just take him by the hand and drag him up and away. To be alone with him. To be _with_ him.

She is by now beginning to think that what she did yesterday evening was a mistake. Not because it was bad, but more because it is now hellishly distracting. And all that just because she always has to be independent and figure things out for herself first.

It has evolved to be a joke by now: Anne is precocious to a fault. Everyone knows this. Anne knows this. Her constant thirst for knowledge and new experiences has gotten her in trouble many a time. Not that she is currently in trouble, exactly. Impatient might be the better descriptor. Because now she knows. And she can't unknow just as much as she can't not imagine the things Gilbert could do to her.

Suitors were only allowed to be at the boarding house until six pm. And even though it was also strictly forbidden to be unchaperoned and especially in one of the bedrooms – they were following the rules. Or that rule, at least. Because while they could control what any of the girls said or didn't say – they couldn't control a neighbour who spied a man leaving the boarding house later in the evening and possibly gossiping about it.

It had been made very clear to the girls at the beginning that _reputations were at risk_ and that _no one wanted to be associated with a fallen woman_ – and that if it was clear that one of them must be one and they didn't say who, they would all be tarred with the same brush and thrown out on the street.

So Gilbert had dutifully left at the appointed time. But Anne had known that Diana would not be home for quite some time and so Anne... Well, Anne had decided to experiment. Gilbert, in his essay, had mentioned that relations were not always pleasurable for women, especially if the partners involved were inexperienced.

Anne thought it was fair to say that both Gilbert and her were inexperienced. What she had realised yesterday, though, was that Gilbert was more experienced than her in one way – he knew what it was like for him to orgasm. He had known immediately when it happened in the yard and didn't seem at all confused about it when he spoked to her about it – even if he was monumentally embarrassed.

Not one to be outdone, Anne had decided that she should also learn. Heavens, why not? Not only would it be good for her alone, it could also make anything she did with Gilbert more pleasurable. Just knowing what worked for her would empower her in that dynamic.

And Anne was all about empowerment and equality. Gilbert knew so much about the subject – the least she could do to catch up was to explore herself a bit. From what she knew, it was not really possible that she would have a negative experience if she didn't try to force anything.

In the beginning, it had been frustrating. She hadn't been able to reach properly when still wearing her dress and corset, so she had had to take the risk to take them off – and just hoped that no one would enter the room while she was undressed and... doing things.

But then... she had described the feeling of Gilbert being close to her as heavenly, and it had been, but touching herself was a whole other thing. She could control what she was doing. There didn't have to be any stopping or sudden lack of contact if she didn't want there to be.

Inserting a finger into herself hadn't really felt all that great – and the second finger had kind of stung. Maybe she just wasn't all that accommodating in terms of size? Or maybe it was an issue with her hymen, she didn't know. (That idea Tilly had had about examining herself down there with a handheld mirror seemed enticing in that moment – but Anne, in her inconvenient lack of vanity, doesn't own one, so she did not have the option in that moment.)

Instead, she had focussed on her clitoris.

She thinks she understands now, why it is forbidden. Why people do not talk about it, especially to women, to keep them from ending up pregnant and destitute or whatever concerns they have or fake. Because she knows now. And she can't unknow it.

The feeling is delicious and powerful. It had coursed through her like a wave, an electrifying shudder of ecstasy that made her forget about the world for a moment and just lie there and experience herself.

This, Anne reasons, was an excellent point as to how powerful the feeling is – because God only knows she hasn't ever stopped thinking before. Even when Gilbert kissed her for the first time, her thoughts had been racing.

Her thoughts are racing now, too. There is a prickling feeling between her thighs where she is pressing them together to contain herself, enraptured with Gilbert's face as he relates an anecdote about the friends he has found at university. Apparently, one of them can have nosebleeds on command. If Gilbert wouldn't swear he had seen it, Anne would think that friend was a fraud and a liar. But since he has, she is kind of concerned about this friend's health.

“Is everything okay?” Gilbert asks at one point when he realises she isn't paying as much attention as she normally does. “You seem a little distracted.”

Anne smiles beatifically and huffs a little laugh at herself. “That's because I am. I do apologise, but sometimes, I look at your face and just lose my sense of hearing.”

Or all her sense, really. She turns quite silly when she is around him and is painfully aware of him. It is undignified. If it weren't so terribly romantical, she would be quite cross with him.

Gilbert smiles in that way that just lights up his whole face. “Well then. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“As you should,” Anne says with as much authority as she can muster while trying to get the last bit of cake on her fork.

He laughs. “How about a walk, then? To clear your mind a bit of my terrible influence?”

Anne would much rather his terrible influence work its charms on her, preferably somewhere behind a closed door. Sadly, she can't say this in a place where they could be so easily overheard, so she has to bite her tongue. But then she realises something: On her walks through the forest that begins just a short distance beyond the city limits, she has always enjoyed the peaceful loneliness. Never had she ever met a single soul once she had left the path to go and explore.

This could be quite useful.

Which is why she grins widely and squeezes his hand where it lies close to hers on the table. “That is a brilliant idea.”

Gilbert's eyebrows look slightly confused.

  
  


When Anne pulls him to her and kisses him in one of her favourite clearings in the forest, his eyebrows have the good grace to look surprised before they integrate into the rest of his face again. Sometimes, just sometimes, Anne opens her eyes when she kisses him. It's always worth it. Because he is just beautiful.

His hands – because, admittedly, they were goofing around and she sprung this on him out of nowhere – immediately go to grip her behind, giving him something to hold onto. And that just... it makes her surge against him, melding them together closely right from the start.

It doesn't seem like he has yet realised where his hands are, so she just preemptively puts hers over them to encourage him. The thrill when he moans and _squeezes her_ instead of just panicking and retreating like he usually does is just immense. Never before has a kiss gotten this charged this quickly.

When Anne moved her hands to clutch his face against her again, Gilbert also moved one of his. Just the one. Still holding her to him with the other one, he uses this one to tilt her head backwards so he can plant a kiss right below her ear.

Anne gasps. And then, when his tongue shoots out to briefly taste her and she realises that they are completely alone and no one can hear her, she gasps again.

Louder.

Gilbert groans and reflexively tightens his hand on her bum, which makes her keen and step towards him further.

In theory, this is the right idea. The problem with that, though, is that they are already as close as they can be standing up – and Gilbert is not really focussed on maintaining his balance right now, so they topple over.

Her fall is cushioned by Gilbert's body, so Anne is not really affected all that much – but she immediately lifts herself up on her elbows to check that he is alright. Going by the delight on his face, he is. Anne has never been this glad of her fondness for moss.

When Anne draws her legs closer to her middle to sit up, she is also very glad for gravity – because that and good fortune have led to her sitting right atop of her beau.

Her skirts are still in the way, so she can't really feel him. But she is sitting astride, looking down on him, and the look in his eyes make her feel like she has all the power in the world. Over him, at least.

His eyes are wide, his lips are parted and his cheeks are pink. Slowly, like he is still testing if he is allowed, he moves his hands to grip her thighs.

“That was... something,” he says. His Adam's apple moves as he swallows. “You okay?”

“I'm perfect,” she says.

He grins. “Yes, you are.”

Her playful hit to his chest just makes him laugh. And then her hand is on his chest and she feels him warm and solid beneath her. It thrills her, and somehow it also makes her brave. It makes her lay her second hand over his heart, bow down over him and kiss him. It also makes her grind her hips against his, just to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... right. So can you tell that I've just realised that I've never written a sex scene before and am totally psyching myself out? :D
> 
> I've been stuck at this point for a bit and just decided to not force it and simply publish the cliffhanger. It's weirdly important for me to do this and them justice. Feedback and tips are, as always, appreciated.
> 
> Also: Holy shit, so many people have read this and left kudos and comments on it! I've been so preoccupied with the comments themselves that I didn't notice the sheer scale of this. Thank you so much!


	9. In which there are entirely too much metaphors about both fire and water

The sound he makes when he throws back his head is reedy. She sees his throat working around a swallow and zeroes in on it so much that she doesn't realise his hands are on her thighs until he is already squeezing them.

It... feels strange. She has never had someone touch her there, not since the last time Mr. Hammond gave her lashes with his belt. This is different, though. This is very different. It's good, it's warm, it's Gilbert.

She moves again, just sort of swivelling her hips back and forth. In her head, it seems like it should be awkward. Like she should feel awkward, doing this when she has no idea how to. The sound coming out of Gilbert's throat, however, makes her feel anything but.

Until Gilbert squeezes her thighs once more, clears his throat, clears it again and says: “No.”

It's like a bucket of cold water gets dumped over her head. No? She doesn't understand. Gilbert was... Isn't he enjoying this? She had thought he was.

But she stops nonetheless. She just stops. She doesn't move, doesn't even know what to say. What has she done that was wrong? Is she not moving right? Is this somehow not good? Has she been wrong all along and somehow...

“Please stop worrying,” Gilbert says, his voice somewhat croaky. “This isn't...”

He moves his hands off her body, into his hair, and then to the ground next to him to push himself up. The expression on his face is sheepish – he himself looks worried, in fact, like he is the one who's done something wrong.

“I don't understand.” The words are out of her mouth as soon as they enter her head. But she doesn't even have the time to worry about it before he grins that charming grin of his.

“If I may be allowed to repeat myself: You are perfect. It's just that the circumstances are not.”

Anne feels her eyebrows draw together on her forehead as if it's not even her own body. “I don't understand,” she repeats.

“Do you really want to do this here?” he asks.

She looks around herself, confused. They're in her meadow. The weather is beautiful, the flowers are blooming and the moss is soft. She doesn't understand the problem, and she says as much.

“But we're outside!”

It seems like she finally has managed to scandalise Gilbert Blythe. If the situation didn't feel so serious, she would probably laugh at him right now. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and... is that a smudge of dirt on his cheek? It probably is.

Anne is an adult, however, and valiantly tries to not let herself be distracted. “So you want to do this inside?”

Even that question seems like it might be a little bit too much for him. He's flushing again. The pink is quite becoming on him.

“I'm not... that would be terribly inappropriate.”

“Did you not say you wanted this just yesterday?” She thinks she's understood his earlier problem. He had been mortified. Clearly getting intimate like this is something he would prefer to do behind closed doors. Except now he's acting like he doesn't or shouldn't prefer it at all?

Then she remembers the rule. About how no man is ever allowed to be behind a closed door with her at the boarding house. Because, to quote the matron, Anne might “fall pregnant and then her life will be ruined.”

Now, she agrees that falling pregnant is one of the most inconvenient things that could happen to her right now. She really does not want that to happen. But did they not just learn a whole lot about a whole lot of things that can be done where there is no risk of finding yourself in such circumstances?

Gilbert closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The hand he drags over his face most definitely leaves a smudge of dirt this time.

“Alright,” he says. “I'll just make my specific problem very clear. I do not want to do _this_ out _here._ ”

Anne nods. “Yes, I've understood that much.”

He sighs. “I really... This is nothing against you. You're lovely and you're very dear to me and you make me feel incredible. But this just doesn't feel right.”

“Because we're outside?” Anne asks, just to make sure.

“Because we're outside,” Gilbert confirms.

Anne mulls this over for a few seconds. “We wouldn't be alone at the boarding house right now. And we couldn't lock the door anyway. Someone could discover us.”

“You would really...” He still seems to be stuck on the same thing he was earlier.

Anne resolutely soldiers through her embarrassment at being this transparent. “Unless you plan to tell me of for being wicked, I do not plan to rescind my earlier statements that I love the way you make me feel and that I don't think I need to adhere to the rules as strictly as society might want me to.” She pauses for a beat. “Although it seems really strange to me that it's just me who needs to worry about appearances this much. Anything happening between us would be just as much your fault as mine, why should I alone be punished for it?”

Gilbert opens his mouth and tries to say something, but she isn't finished yet.

“And why, for that matter, is this supposed to be wrong? I really don't understand. Surely, if God is loving and kind and if he is the one to have made us to be able to feel this way, he would be alright with us feeling this way?”

Now Gilbert is smiling. “Well, I'm studying medicine, not the Bible. But I bet my hat it's because some old coot decided that if he wasn't allowed to have any fun, no one else was allowed to either.”

“Why Gilbert!” Anne exclaims, delighted. This might be the most direct he has ever been with her about his opinions. Usually, he seems to shy away from expressing them, maybe scared of judgement, or scared that she'll disagree. Probably both. And he is most likely justified in that. Anne does disagree with a lot of things. Sometimes just for the heck of it.

It then occurs to her that he has referenced intimacy as being “fun”. She cocks her head to the side, as if the angle will tell her something different about him.

His eyes widen comically. “I didn't mean...”

“No, I know,” she says, patting his chest where her hand still lays. “I mean, it _is_ fun.”

“But it's not _just_ fun.”

“No, it isn't.” She pauses. “Wait. Don't you have a room in a hotel somewhere?”

  
  


Sneaking in isn't difficult. She doesn't know what she expected – Gilbert doesn't have a lot of money, he's a student. Of course he wouldn't be staying in one of those fancy hotels with a reception desk.

In fact, this place is almost the exact opposite of that. It's dark and dingy and full of people who Anne wouldn't want to look at too closely. Calling it “humble” would be a great exaggeration. The word “inn” doesn't really fit either.

And yet – the door has a lock. Well, no. It has a deadbolt. But that is just as good. It does the job.

Something shifts in the air when she closes it. She hasn't even turned around yet, doesn't need to look at Gilbert to notice it. And it makes gooseflesh erupt on her arms. She can feel the little hairs stand on end against the fabric of her blouse.

He lays a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. She goes easily, unsure of what will happen, but never surer of him. Because he seems sure of himself now. Determined.

This time, he doesn't ask if he can kiss her. He just drags the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip and searches her eyes, silent, until she nods.

Then, he descends on her. With so much force that her back hits the rickety door, but she doesn't pay it much mind. His hands are framing her face, drawing her to him, lips burning hot on hers. This time, he isn't shy about lapping his tongue at her lips briefly, curiously venturing forth when she opens to him.

The groan he releases when he first touches his tongue to hers shoots straight to her core and makes her moan in turn. She feels like she's floating, and still, it's somehow not enough. So she runs her hands over him, trying to find purchase.

The flaps of his jacket work just fine for a little while. But clutching onto them only gets his torso nearer to hers. She wants _all_ of him nearer. And then she remembers what just happened in the clearing.

Anne's hands on his backside are what finally makes him break the kiss. His breath huffs against her neck. “Damn it, Anne, what are you doing to me?”

That makes her laugh. “Nothing bad, I hope. But maybe we should take this somewhere else in this room. I don't quite trust that the door will hold.”

Two more breaths puff against her neck. And then, suddenly, he bends down just a little, gets purchase on her legs just under her behind, and picks her up. Anne is so surprised that he can just move her like a ragdoll.

But he doesn't move her far, just to the brick wall next to the door. One of her legs slips put of his grip almost immediately. The other one, he just seems to hold onto because he doesn't know what else to do with it – at least going by the look he gives her.

And so Anne does the first thing that comes to mind: She uses it to hook behind his back and draw him to her. Only when this positions him directly at her core does she realise what a brilliant idea that was.

He's already kissing her again when her moan breaks free, so he draws back in surprise. The stupefied look on his face almost makes her want to roll her eyes. How is he still this mystified by the fact that he makes her feel this way? He cannot possibly be this oblivious.

“Well, come on,” she says after a moment of silence. “I was enjoying myself.”

Gilbert chokes out a weird, high-pitched sound and dives in again. His hand tightening on her thigh makes her groan and push closer to him – and that, in turn, makes him roll his hips against her.

Marvellous isn't nearly good enough a word to describe how it makes her feel. Especially not when he does it again, and again. She has to break the kiss, feeling so full with it, but it doesn't deter Gilbert. Not this time. Instead, he latches onto her neck, kissing it, tracing a vein with his tongue.

The whine she lets out at that makes him chuckle, then groan when he grinds against her again.

It almost doesn't hurt when she hits her head against the wall behind her, just a tad lost in the feeling of it all. Gilbert, however, hesitates.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She has never heard her voice sound like this, but she finds that she likes it. It has a breathy quality to it, almost like it is ethereal. And most of all: This is what Gilbert makes her sound like. So of course she adores it.

“And this is really also alright?”

Really, this boy is infuriating. “Yes!” she exclaims. “Don't you think you would have noticed by now if it wasn't? Please, can't you just...”

Again, it is like a dam breaking. He surges against her, harder than before, and his hand tangles in her skirt. His lips are hungry against hers. And his other hand... is placed just over her collarbone, the ball of it precariously close to the top of her corset.

Well, Anne thinks to herself, why not.

When she places her hand over his to draw it to her breast, something tightens at her core. Gilbert is touching her. Gilbert is touching her. In a room, alone, just the two of them. He is hard against her leg, grinding up against her, stimulating them both at the same time.

A shiver races down her spine as she recognizes the feeling emanating from between her legs. It is hot, getting hotter, expanding across her whole body and somehow drawing in on itself more closely at the same time.

“Gilbert,” she moans, high and desperate.

His hand squeezes her chest over the corset, thumb curiously circling around the pebbled nipple he's discovered there. It only makes her shiver more.

He is still moving against her, and it feels divine, but somehow, it just is not enough. Anne doesn't know what to do about this, how to communicate it. She doesn't even know precisely what she's missing, what she needs.

Yesterday, it had all been her. It had come to her naturally, and so... she had not paid attention. Which felt inexcusable now, but what could she do?

Remembering I had worked before, she simply puts her hands on his behind again, to draw her to him. He follows her direction without hesitation, which just makes it feel more delicious.

She feels powerful. They are doing this because they want to, because they can, no matter what anybody says. They are doing this because they are in love, and because they want each other. Gilbert wants her.

_Gilbert. Wants. Her._

Gilbert is also clutching her leg so hard that his hand feels almost like a claw and makes these little sounds into her mouth, almost like he doesn't realise it. It sounds like he's moaning on each breath, just a little.

“Gilbert,” she calls out again, dangerously loudly.

“Fuck,” Gilbert says.

And Anne just explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't dead. Not completely. Unfortunately, though, (after work) I am.
> 
> Here's a slightly longer chapter to make up for this horribly long hiatus.
> 
> Also, yay for enthusiastic consent, even if it is given in slight annoyance. That's probably just an Anne problem, though. She tends to be impatient :D


End file.
